


When Twilight Falls

by zestycrouton



Series: Timeline [7]
Category: The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-04-16 10:35:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14162961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zestycrouton/pseuds/zestycrouton
Summary: 'Yet though the moon could not reach the wolf, it would always be there. Filling the sky when the twilight was gone.'Post-TP. Part of the Timeline mini-series.





	When Twilight Falls

**Author's Note:**

> Just a reminder: this short story is part of the 'Timeline' mini-series in which I take a look at how I think Link and Zelda's relationship dynamic played out after the various games in the franchise. This time, we're taking a look at Twilight Princess.
> 
> No, you do not have to have read any of the other stories for this one to make sense, but if you would like to please feel free!

**_Timeline_ **

**-Twilight Princess-**

** When Twilight Falls **

It was sunset once again.

Before the sinking of the sun, Hyrule Castle stood impassive; its ancient, weathered stones bathed once more in the golden-yellow light of another day’s dying embers. The funeral pyre of yet one more nameless autumn afternoon.

The image of the castle engulfed in fiery twilight was not unfamiliar to Link, though he was grateful that today, at least, the sight was not meant to herald yet another otherworldly invasion. No, his wars had long-since been fought, and though the memory of those frantic battles and the flash of glowing steel against the perpetual dusk may have forever ingrained itself into his mind, he felt strangely at peace here, within the selfsame walls where once he had dueled the darkness itself to the death.

Link stood alone on the balcony of one of the castle’s many towers. He’d snuck away just as he always did whenever the opportunity permitted. Though he was a soldier now and had responsibilities of his own, he knew nobody would miss him, at least not for long. He was just one more nameless soldier here, a face without a title. Here, few were the ones who connected him with the Hero who stopped the Twilight Invasion. And though at times the limitations of his calling chaffed against the wilder impulses of his spirit, he found he enjoyed the relative anonymity.

The sun was still somewhat high overhead, only just now starting its descent. It was the start of the Witching Hour, as some of the more superstitious liked to call it, though he’d heard it called Golden Hour as well. The time of day when the mortal world was at its closest to other planes, other dimensions. Most thought this referred to the land of the dead, wherever that may be. But Link knew better.

There was something sad about the light of the setting sun. Though its familiar, comforting rays still stroked his cheeks, they lacked the warmth of their midafternoon counterparts. The chill of the approaching night was already heavy on the air. The heat that was once there could no longer reach him.

A shuffling sound approached from behind. Footsteps on stone. A visitor had arrived to interrupt his silent vigil.

Link turned, preparing himself to be called back to another duty, and he resigned himself to his fate, already regretting the twilight he would miss.

Unexpectedly familiar blue eyes met his own, surprise momentarily reflected across both of their faces.

“Ah…” Her voice was gentle and perfectly demure, as always. “Hero. Forgive me, I didn’t see you there.”

Link straightened his posture at once, hands tugging reflexively at the bottom of his tunic to ensure that his clothing was on straight, greeting her as formally as he knew how.

“Good evening, Princess.”

“Please, be at ease, Hero.” She replied, though not-unkindly, stepping a little further out onto the balcony. “It was not my intention to disturb you. I simply needed a slight respite from…”

Here, she hesitated, her silk-gloved fingers lacing together delicately before her as her eyes scanned the glowing skies above them.

“…life, I suppose. Would you mind if I…?”

“Not at all.” He gestured to the space along the rampart beside him. “I was just thinking that I could use some company. Though, the castle is yours- you hardly need my permission.”

With all the grace and elegant poise he’d come to expect of her, she joined him, permitting him a small, grateful smile that he accepted with a perfectly courteous nod.

After that, silence.

The Princess of Hyrule, standing casually beside him to watch the sunset… the thought seemed at once both fantastic and mundane.

On the one hand, she was the princess; in a normal life, a woman of her caliber should never have looked twice at a simple goat herder from the Ordon Province. Everything about her, from her regal stature to her sophisticated style of dress and even the way she appeared to exude wisdom and maturity and grace seemed enough to leave any mortal man tongue-tied- and that was to say nothing of her exquisite beauty.

Yet on the other hand, after all that Link had seen and done, the legends and fantasies and fairytales come to life before his very eyes, after battling alongside her for the fate of the world, and the memory of the way she’d clung to him with her knees, firing arrow after desperate arrow at Ganondorf as they galloped across the plains, she seemed less of an untouchable goddess and more a relatable human being than ever before.

In spite of that, however, the two remained essentially strangers. There was much that they shared, and much that divided them, yet no matter what had transpired between them or in what manner destiny conspired to tangle their lives together, they remained separate beings from separate walks of life.

In the small bit of time that had passed since her arrival, the sun had sunk even further down the horizon, the sky descending from the warm, friendly goldenrod he’d been enjoying to a dark orange. Not for the first time, he found himself cursing the ephemeral nature of twilight. It came and went far too quickly, not leaving him enough time to enjoy it to its fullest, to grasp it in his hands and let it soak into his bones, to try in vain to invite it to fill the aching void he carried inside of him.

“I wish you had told me you’d returned to the castle.”

Link turned his head just far enough to glance at the princess out of the corner of his eye. She wasn’t looking at him, her gaze fixated upon sunset. Painted as she was under the dying rays of Golden Hour, he could almost believe that it wasn’t her who had spoken, that it had instead been some fey spirit playing tricks on him.

“I didn’t mean to keep it secret.” He replied softly, turning back to the sky. “It just didn’t seem like it was worth calling to your attention, what with everything going on.”

“The Hero of Twilight joining my castle guard isn’t worthy of attention?”

There was no accusation in her tone, merely mild amusement, and he let it go with a rueful shake of the head.

“It was nearly a full year before I noticed you.” The princess continued, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips, just barely perceptible. “You can imagine my surprise. And here I’d thought you preferred a simple life of herding goats to the hustle and bustle of the castle.”

From anyone else, the comment about his origins might have sounded condescending, but not from her. She was never more or less than the very picture of composure and propriety. Hyrule’s porcelain princess.

“The war with Zant is over,” Link replied in answer to her unasked question, “but Hyrule is still in need of help. I suppose I thought I would be of use here.”

He half-expected her to tell him, gracious as ever, that he wasn’t needed; that he had done his duty, that he had earned his rest, that Hyrule would have to learn to care for itself from now on.

To his immense relief she did not, instead responding with a quiet, “I am not certain we are worthy of such devotion,” before letting it rest at that.

There was something in her tone, something significant, that had him wondering if she knew. Knew the reason why he had left Ordon behind, knew the reason he had thrown himself into becoming a knight. That it was not out of a selfless desire for the good of his nation as he pretended, but in the restless pursuit of something – anything – that could serve as a good enough distraction.

Instead of letting his mind ruminate any further on that topic than he already had, he turned back to the princess and stated, in an attempt to divert the flow of the conversation, “I know this is a little late, but allow me to congratulate you on your engagement. May the blessings of the Goddesses be upon you and your fiancé.”

She nodded, accepting his words with grace as always, but no emotion reflected itself across her marble façade.

“Thank you. He seems like a good match for Hyrule. I have high hopes that our union will be a boon for our people in this trying time of reconstruction.”

A perfectly phrased response, recited as though by wrote.

“As do I, Princess.” Link replied, not certain how else to respond. This was the first real conversation the two had had since bidding their farewells, and though she was ultimately a stranger to him, he found he didn’t want it to end. “Though… forgive me if this seems impertinent, but… I would hope that this marriage brings you happiness as well.”

Here she did finally break her gaze away from the horizon, and he could see the first real emotion slip past the mask; surprise.

Link kept his face still, but internally he was kicking himself. He didn’t know much about marriage practices among royals and the nobility, but even he knew enough to know that, more often than not, marriages were a matter of political union and consolidation of power, not love.

In this moment, he must have sounded very much like a simple ranch hand from Ordon. For all he knew, she hated the man who would become her husband, but she would wed him anyway, out of duty. It was possible he was prodding at a sore spot.

A moment later, her mask returned and she offered Link a polite smile.

“Thank you, Hero… It is easy to forget small things like that when you’re the princess.”

Link blinked. She thought her happiness was a small thing…?

“What of you, Hero?” And here it sounded like she was the one changing the subject, “I confess, even after all we went through together in the war, I know surprisingly little about you. Do you have a wife back in Ordon?”

His thoughts flashed to Ilia before he could stop them. The only girl he’d known who was his age back home, his childhood best friend. Growing up, it had always been assumed that one day, when he was older, he and Ilia would eventually wed and start a family together. Link would take over the ranch, and eventually become the mayor once Bo stepped down. He would grow old in relative peace, tending to the goats and the village affairs, and raising his children with his loving wife. A simple life for a simple man.

But that was before. Before the monsters had raided the village. Before he’d drawn the sword. Before Ganondorf and Zant. Before the Twilight.

When he had left the village, Ilia had been heartbroken. She’d tried to be strong, tried to be supportive, to be understanding, but she had wept when he’d ridden away. So had Colin, and Rusl and Uli, and Bo, and the children, and even Fado. They had known just as he had, though he’d never said it aloud, that though he may be back to visit, he’d never be back to stay.

Ordon wasn’t his home any longer. It had grown too small for him. Too small to hide the wild call that howled in his heart. Too small to avoid the heartbroken eyes of Ilia.

“No, Princess,” he finally managed to answer upon realizing that he’d been quiet for too long, and then, without meaning to, he found himself confessing, his voice unsteady, “but then, I don’t suppose I’m capable of loving anyone at the present. After all that’s happened, I feel… not myself.”

He didn’t know what possessed him to say that, why he felt the completely unsolicited need to unburden himself in such a personal, inappropriate manner to the soon-to-be Queen of Hyrule.

Perhaps there was some truth to the superstitions about the Witching Hour, and some fell magic was playing with his mind. Perhaps it was because the twilight made him feel vulnerable and exposed. Perhaps it was because it was her, the only other person in this realm who could understand and empathize with what he was going through.

Whatever the reason, he regretted his words as soon as they left his mouth, but before he could come up with a plausible excuse to flee the balcony in shame, Zelda stepped forward, resting her delicately gloved forearms on the rampart of the balcony as she gazed out over the steadily-darkening fields of Central Hyrule.

“Did you love Midna, Link?” She asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.

He stiffened, his eyes wide with fear and despair. This was the first time that anyone had mentioned the Twilight Princess since Link and Zelda had returned from the Gerudo Desert. Hearing her name again, in this place, at this time of day, from Zelda’s lips, sent a shock coursing through his nerves.

“I… I don’t know.” He replied honestly.

His thoughts turned to Midna, to the way she teased him, her impetuous spirit, her impish smile, her selfless sacrifice. Then he thought of Ilia, and the look on her face when he rode out of Ordon for the last time.

“What does it mean to love?” He found himself asking, probing internally at the void that now took up residence where his heart used to be. “How does a person know when they’re in love?”

Zelda turned to him, and in the rapidly fading light, her marble façade seemed weighted and sad.

“You’re asking the wrong person, I’m afraid.” She answered softly. “Of all that a princess is blessed with, that is one luxury that I’ll never know.”

The oranges in the sky above had long-since faded to rich scarlet, and even now the transition to purple and black was well underway. Twilight was slipping through his fingers once again, and he was every bit as unable to stop it now as he had been the day Midna had vanished through the mirror.

Yet in this moment, he found it hard to focus on the melancholy that the hour of twilight usually inspired in him. Though Zelda’s face had not changed, it occurred to Link then that Hyrule’s Porcelain Princess had just been unusually forthcoming with him. Her confession had been nearly as personal as his was. And he didn’t know what to make of it.

“I can tell you one thing, however.” She continued, straightening up to cast one last lingering look at the horizon just as the last of the day’s warmth vanished from the sky and true darkness overtook them. “I’ve spent most of my life alone in this castle, even before the war… yet I never felt more lonely than after Midna said her goodbye.”

_“Loneliness pervades the hour of twilight,”_ Rusl had said to him once. He hadn’t known what he’d meant then, but ever since Midna had left him, he’d thought that he’d gained a personal understanding of the phrase, one unique only to him. It was only now that he realized he was wrong. He hadn’t been alone in his loneliness, paradoxical though that might sound. Zelda had been right there with him. It had been no coincidence that she’d appeared on that balcony right at the hour of twilight; she’d come for the same reason he had.

There was a sound from the doorway. A servant appeared; the princess was being summoned back inside. All traces of her previous vulnerability, fleeting though they were, had vanished behind her stoic, impassive exterior. She stepped away from Link and the night, and a strange, new sorrow fell over him.

This conversation had been a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Connected though they may be through past tragedies and the unknowable machinations of destiny, the gulf between them was too vast to cross. She was still the princess, and he a goat herder turned knight. No matter what either of them may wish, they could never truly be friends.

Before she left, the princess turned back to him one final time and said, her tone once again perfectly measured and polite, “Forgive me if this seems sudden, but it strikes me as wasteful that a man of your talents be relegated to the position of a simple soldier. I’d like to recommend that you be promoted to the Royal Guard; that is, if you’re not opposed to the idea?”

Crossing his right arm over his chest in the traditional fashion, Link offered the princess a formal bow.

“If that is where you want me to serve, Highness, then so be it.”

He straightened, fully expecting her to have already vanished back into the castle only to find her standing there, staring at him, her eyes unreadable. A moment passed, as did between them a silent understanding. A mutual promise.

She would always be above him. He would always be beneath. And though they would forever be divided, he could take comfort in knowing at the very least that she was there. Silently supportive and understanding. Just as he would be for her.

And then she was gone, just as quickly as she’d come, swept back up into the hassles of royal affairs, leaving Link alone in the darkness of the night.

Overhead, the stars had yet to appear in their multitudes. The moon sat round and full, a perfect porcelain sphere, selflessly giving light to the world below, yet somehow in that moment it seemed lonely to him.

Somewhere in the wilderness outside the castle walls, a wolf howled, its cry echoing alone into the night. The moon did not react. It did not seem to hear, it’s face unchanging, the gulf between them too wide.

Yet though the moon could not reach the wolf, it would always be there. Filling the sky when the twilight was gone.

Just as the wolf would always be below, crying out to her.

Wordless, Link turned and left the balcony.


End file.
